


Porcelain Doll

by yaoiruinedmylife



Series: While I'm alive [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Alpha Derek, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead Kate Argent, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Stiles, Ill claudia, Kidnapping, M/M, Mates, Pining Derek, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stiles is beautiful, schizophrenic claudia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 02:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2635013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaoiruinedmylife/pseuds/yaoiruinedmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been locked up in the attic since he was 6. It all started when his mother got ill, schizophrenia the doctor said.  At first there were little things that changed in Claudia's life. She'd often look lost and her eyes would glaze over, she would forget to take Stiles to school. It then worsened, she would snap at his father for as little as touching him. It ended with his mother convincing herself that he was a gift from god, that everyone was unworthy of his beauty and kidnapping him away from his father and moving to the forgotten town of Beacon Hills.<br/>Years later, after a rogue omega accidentally kills Claudia, Derek and Laura sent to burn her house as per her wishes and that's where they find Stiles and Derek finds his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Porcelain Doll

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story! If you see any mistakes, feel free to point them out! The plot of the story was an idea a friend came up with and said would be cool if it was a story! Ta-dah!

“Mommy, can I please go out today?” Huge amber eyes pleaded as they longingly stared through the tiny window in his makeshift room.

 

“No Stiles, perhaps tomorrow” Claudia sighed, petting his son’s hair with a firm, rough hand.

 

“But you said that yesterday! Please, I am almost 8” Stiles implored again , trying to stand up from his bed, where he was laying next to his mother “I haven’t left the house since we moved here and I miss da-”

 

“You want to leave me! Is that it?” Claudia screeched, deftly pinning her child to the bed. “You are mine! My beautiful child”

 

Stile’s eyes watered, ignoring his urge to fight back and allowing his body to go limp. He always felt frightened beyond reason when his mom got into one of her moods. “No mommy, please!”

 

“You are for my eyes only, a gift from god himself” She barked, repeatedly kissing the boy’s cheeks with damp, ashy lips. “All of them, they're unworthy of you! They’ll just take you away for themselves, I’m protecting you baby. I’m doing this for you! Are you even grateful? Do you love your mother Stiles?”

 

Stiles’s lip trembled, the pain on his wrists increasing alarmingly fast. He felt the flaring surge of a panic attack and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his breathing.  
Claudia growled, sounding completely inhuman. “Don’t make me punish you Stiles! Now, tell me! Do you love your mother?!”

 

“Yes mommy, I love you”

 

“Then you won’t ask to leave again” Claudia said with a steely voice, releasing her child’s reddened wrists and ignoring the hot tears that ran down Stile’s face.

He felt miserable as he tried to remember his father's face, trying to console himself with happier memories. He hadn't seen his father in 3 years and everyday a little piece of information about him would chip away from his memory. He still held the hope that one day his father would find him.  
That is if he was still searching for him...

 

 

                                                                                                         -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

 

 

“Stiles, I am going to work!” His mother hollered from downstairs, a part of the house he had not seen since he was 6.

“Ok mom, I’ll be in the attic, like I always am” Stiles yelled back, knowing his sarcasm was not always well received by his mother but not caring.

 

As soon as he heard his mother violently slam the door, he ran towards the small window in the attic and stared as his mother’s car sped off, releasing a thick cloud of black smoke into the forest. He snickered, thinking of what global warming activists would say to her and her stupid shitbox of a car. Stiles sighed, watching as his breath dampened the window; outside the trees danced slowly to the wind that howled through Beacon Hills. Stiles loved to watch through the window on a windy day or a rainy day. Honestly any day as long as something more interesting than a bunch of immobile trees being illuminated by the sun happened. That had gotten old incredibly fast. But even if that was more interesting that looking at his room.

 

The only furnishing the attic had was a rusty metal bed, a small table cluttered with two small piles of books, an old chair whose paint was chipping off, a dresser where he stored the few plaid shirts and worn out jeans he owned and some DC and marvel comics from 96’ he’d managed snuck into his suitcase the day his mother told him they were leaving New York.

 

Sure, he had some books to read in his room but he had read them all at least seven times. He had begged his mother for more but she rarely brought him new ones, paranoid that someone would suspect that she was reading too many books too fast for a single person to read even though she was a fucking librarian. But then again her mother was not the epitome of sanity. So that left the window as his only source of entertainment. If it could even be called a window, said thing was approximately the size of three fists long and two fists wide. It was diminutive and it didn't even open.

 

When someone to walk past his house; which had happened around 20 times in the 10 years he had been trapped in the attic; no one would glance his way, no matter how loud he screamed for help, no many times he banged on the walls, not even when he had his infamous panic attacks. They all just went their way, unsuspicious of the missing teenager that had his face plastered amongst most milk cartons in the country. Stiles was 16 now tomorrow and his mother still didn’t trust him with the rest of the house. It had been ten long years since he had met or talked to anyone that was not his mother Ten years since he had talked or seen his father, ten years since he had truly smiled.

 

Everyday he pleaded to god, any god that was listening to him to set him free. Or at least to make his mother kidnap another person and lock them up with him in the attic. He always felt guilty after that thought, he wouldn’t wish this on anyone but he has so desperately lonely.

 

Stiles sighed dramatically, resting his cheek against the cool of the window’s glass. His mother was sick, sick in the head. She suffered from severe schizophrenia, paranoia, and obsessive compulsive disorder. He knew so because she had told him countless times. Claudia would sometimes regain reason. She would be counting his moles, or sometimes drawing him. And then she would stop, bursting into tears. She would beg him to forgive her, that she was sick and could not control it anymore, the illness had completely consumed her. Those were the rare times she urged him to escape, to leave the house. Once she was close to giving him the key of his room that she kept around her neck; but her moments of sanity would be gone as fast as they came, in a blink of an eye. Her eyes would glaze again and she would continue what she was previously doing, as if nothing had happened.

 

Those were the times that made him the most depressed, he would get ill. His panic attacks would return with full force, episodes so strong he would often spew, until he couldn't breathe.

Sometimes Stiles would not leave his bed for weeks , his beautiful eyes turned glassy, spending hours, sometimes days staring at the at the ceiling, numbly watching as the spiders on the wood worked on yet another web.  
Other days he would scream, just to hear noise, just to make sure he was still alive, just to break the deafening silence of his room that always seemed threaten the the small string of sanity he so desperately held on to.To Claudia it did not matter wether he wailed or nor anyway. She would come from work, like she did every day, sit on the lone chair that had been placed next to his bed and stare at him.

 

Whenever he choose to lay on his bed motionless she preferred to draw him, cataloguing his features with unhidden fascination.  
But when Stiles screamed or made noise his mother would lay next to him and caress his pale body, petting his skin until it turned raw, until he sobbed and begged for her to stop. But Claudia would only giggle maniacally, her face would adopt a patronising smile and keep going.

 

Sometimes it felt like the stale air in his room was slowly poisoning him; desperate to leave Stiles had tried everything to escape his prison. First he had tried screeching for help to the joggers that rarely entered that deep into the forrest, but the people that ran past never even glanced at the house. His mother had once told him it was not uncommon to have a house in the middle of the woods in Beacon Hills. Then he had tried breaking the glass of the window, but it seemed impossible, he had no tools to do it and had been obligated to stop when his fists started to get sore and bloody.

 

Lastly he had tried stealing the key from his mother’s neck when he had caught her sleeping in his bed after hours of drawing him. As soon as he had grabbed the key around her neck, her eyes had flown open and she grasped his wrists, startling him into releasing the key. Stiles had been punished that night, his pants had been pulled down around his ankles and he’d been spanked to tears.

That wasn't deterring though, it didn't matter how long it took him to think of an escape plan or how long he had to wait. All Stiles had left was time.

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                          -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Why are we the ones who always get the dirty jobs” Laura whined as she turned the key in the ignition and grinned when she heard the Camaro purr to life.

 

“Maybe cause we are the youngest ones?” Derek sighed, putting the window down and feeling the wind hit his face.

 

“What about Cora and Jake?” Laura sighed, as she stepped down on the accelerator, purposely ignoring Derek’s glare.

 

“Cora’s ten years old!” Derek exclaimed “and Jake is human”

 

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just not fair, you know? Now we have to go and erase the evidence and I had to stop reading my novella.” Laura grumbled, hearing the loud sloshing noises the gallons of gasoline she had in the back seat made whenever when she turned a sharp corner. “I wonder why Mrs.Stilinski’s last wish was to burn her fucking house. Who asks a stranger to burn their house?!”

 

“I don’t even know. I guess it’s a bit weird. Then again she was always weird, I always tried to ignore her when I saw her working at the library, she smelt off. Bitter”

 

“Tell me about it, but she still didn't deserve to die. Specially, the way that she did. Who knew that the rogue omega Dad had been looking for slammed into her car. At least Peter says she was half dead when he pulled her out of the pile of metal she was trapped under.”

 

Derek absently nodded, thinking of Mrs. Stilinski’s face caked in dirt and blood, her eyes shutting closed as she kept muttering something under her breath, something about a Stiles. “What even is a Stiles” He wondered out loud, watching Laura shrug.

“Peter said she kept screaming that word, whatever it means. Maybe it’s another language. She was from Poland wasn’t she?”

“Was she?”

“It doesn’t really matter now anyway, I just hope they don’t catch us, I don’t feel like becoming the next aspiring arson of Beacon hills” Laura sighed, her mood getting sour as they reached the address they had gotten off Mrs. Stilinski’s licence.

 

“That is Kate’s job” Derek spat angrily as he got out of the car, grabbing the two plastic containers filled with gasoline in the back.

 

“Der- I didn't mean-” Laura whispered softly, locking the car and rushing towards his side, hugging him lightly.

 

Derek smiled and rolled his eyes “I know, I’m just glad she is dead”

 

Laura grinned and snatched one of the plastic containers off his hand “Yes little bro, and now you have the chance to burn away your frustrations! See what I did there? Let’s do this shit!”

 

Derek snorted and ripped the cap off his container, the strong smell of gasoline making him gag. He sometimes hated the fact that his family was so righteous and liked to honour last wishes. He usually didn’t mind but then again, no one had asked them to commit a fucking crime before. Sighing loudly, Derek walked up to the side of the house and started coating the unkempt walls with gasoline.

 

“Wait! Derek!” Laura hissed, her eyes widening in confusion “Listen!”

 

Derek frowned and stopped still, immediately hearing it, the faint beat of a heart that pounded steadily from inside of the house.

 

“The fuck?”

 

“I did not know Mrs. Stilinski’s husband was even alive, I have never seen him! Have you?” Derek whispered, backing away from the house.

Laura frowned, walking towards the entrance and breaking the door open.

 

“Laura, what the hell are you doing! We need to get out of here!” Derek hissed, running to her side and pulling her away from the door.

 

“No Derek, something’s not right. I once overheard Mrs. Stilinski saying she was a widow and that she lived alone” Laura whispered, impatiently batting his hand off her arm “That was a few weeks ago”

 

“Well someone is obviously here and if we don’t want to get caught and go to jail we have to g-Laura!” Derek whispered angrily, watching his sister walk into the house. Derek gulped softly and followed her in, trying to catch up to her but also trying to make no noise. “Hear that gang? It’s coming from upstairs, the roof! We must investigate!” Laura replied back, climbing up the creaky stairs that led up to the roof.

 

“This is not an episode of Scooby Doo! Also, as your brother I must tell you, updating your references is kinda important if you want to be taken seriously.”

Laura snorted and grabbed Derek’s wrist, pulling him faster up the stairs.

 

“Ugh! What died in here?” His sister complained, scrunching her nose as if she could stop the musty smell that permeated around the house. “We wouldn’t have to be here if you had listened!” Derek retorted as they reached the door that lead to the attic. “Come on” Laura whispered “We need to whoever is in the attic out of the house before we burn it!”

 

“We’re still doing that?” Derek sighed in disbelief, feeling his heart beat in anticipation. He couldn't deny the curiosity he felt. Mrs. Stilinski was not liked by most people in Beacon Hills due to the fact she was constantly in a bad mood. She was a childless widow that apparently lived alone in an old forgotten house in the middle of the densest part of the forrest. He couldn't possibly imagine who would want to voluntarily spend time with someone as sour as her, especially in a dump like the one she lived in. As soon as they stood next to the door, they heard the person’s heart beating loudly from the other side.

 

 

“Derek!”

 

“What!?” Derek grunted, cocking his head to the side and sniffing the air. Gone was the rancid smell from before, instead an aroma of honey, vanilla and home wafted through the door. It was intoxicatingly good, and if Derek was being honest, it was the best thing he had ever smelt in his entire life.

 

“Derek” Laura tried again, “Your eyes are Alpha red! That can only mea-”

 

“Mate” Derek completed, looking absolutely horrified. “I am mated to Mrs. Stilinski’s husband? Or boyfriend or sex slave!”

 

“Oh honey!” Laura frowned, squeezing his hand “Okay, I’m going in.”

“No way!” Derek said frantically, he’d always dreamt of one day finding his mate and moving somewhere cool like New York. Realistically not everyone met their soulmate in their lifetime, some people died alone, waiting for the day that they met the one that was made for them. Others chose to marry or date whoever they found closest to their soulmates, it was the best of a bad situation.

Most people chose to do that. And then there were the unlucky amongst the lucky ones, the ones that got to meet their mates but at inconvenient times such as meeting them while they were babies and they themselves were adults, or meeting them and loosing them to lady death and her scythe. It appeared that Derek was one of the unlucky ones amongst the lucky ones.

 

“Baby bro” Laura said, startling him out of his musings “That person is your mate. That will never change, even if he is an old, gross-looking dude that bedded Stilinski, that human in there is your mate. Someone who is supposed to be your perfect match.”

 

Derek grimaced but nodded, old or young if he or she was his mate, he would inevitably fall in love with them. With a gulp, Derek let his sister turn the knob and push the door open “Hello! Mister Sti-”

 

Both siblings froze at the sight of a boy who seemed to be sleeping on the floor, his body illuminated by the few stray rays of sunshine that shone through the small windows above him, disturbing the darkness of the room.

 

“At least we know he ain’t old” Laura whispered as she walked closer.

 

Derek could only stare as the boy jerked awake and immediately sat up, turning towards them and gasping, gorgeous amber eyes going wide in panic.

 

“Who are you?” the boy uttered, struggling to breathe, his lithe body trembling.

 

“Hey, hey calm down!” Laura said softly feeling a bit star-strucked as she observed one of the most beautiful beings she had ever seen. She walked towards the boy, who got even more distressed as he struggled to breath normally, “We are not going to hurt you, right Derek?”

 

Laura looked up to her brother, expecting an answer but Derek continued to gape at the kid. He was easily the most alluring human he had ever laid eyes on, he was like a male venus. Supple-looking porcelain skin lightly sprinkled by a constellation of beauty marks that reminded Derek of star scattered around the endless cosmos, mesmerising gold eyes rimmed by a fan of dark lashes, a cute upturned nose and a full set of pink lips. The kid was absolutely breath-taking.

 

“Derek!” Laura reprimanded as her brother continued to stand and do nothing while his mate worked himself into a panic attack.

 

Snapping out of it Derek darted forward and gathered him into a hug, trying to calm his mate down. “Shhhh, I know, breathe.” he said as he stroked the boy’s back, trying to calm him down “Breathe in and out, yeah, that’s it. In and out” he continued holding him, gathering the boy into his arms and feeling his body melt into his.

 

“Who are you?” Laura asked softly, trying not to spark another panic attack from the kid.

 

“M-My name is Stiles and my mom's name is Claudia Stilinski. We moved here ten years ago.” Stiles said, resting his face against Derek’s chest. Even though he was a complete stranger, he completely trusted the older man.

 

“10 years! How come we never saw you at school?” Laura gasped, sitting on the floor next to them.

 

“That’s because I’ve never been in school. This is the first time in 10 years I have seen another human being except for my mother. I have been locked up here since I was 6.”

 

Derek and Laura both gasped simultaneously, a horrified look appearing in both of their faces.

 

“But why?” Laura said loudly, ignoring the flinch from Stiles and the glare her brother sent her way.

 

Stiles frowned and looked away from the two strangers in his room. “She said I was a gift from god, that I wasn’t for other’s eyes. That she was the only worthy one, that I was her perfect doll and others would only break me.”

 

“So you haven’t left this room in 10 years” Derek repeated, slowly standing up and carefully lifting Stiles in his arms. “That’s insane!”

 

“Wha-?” Stiles gasped, feeling Derek hold him a bit tighter as he walked out of his room. “Where are you taking me? Mom will be back soon and you guys will be in trouble! Please, she is not well in the head!”

 

“Stiles” Laura started, following Derek as he continued descending down the stairs with Stiles who had started to struggle in her brother’s arms. “Your mom” Laura tried to explain “she is-Damn! How do I put this? She’s dead Stiles”

 

Stiles stopped his struggles, stiffening in Derek’s arms. “What?!”

 

“We found her under her car, she’d had a terrible car accident and was half dead when we found her. She begged us to do a last thing for her, to fulfil her dying wish. She wanted us to burn the house with you in it” Derek half-lied, trying his best to mask his anger. How could that bitch have Stiles up there in the attic like a porcelain doll in a case, for ten years! And worse, she wanted him to die because she couldn't have him anymore!

 

“It can’t be! I must be dreaming!” Stiles sobbed, pressing his face against Derek’s neck and forcing his eyes closed. He allowed the tears to flow freely down his face. He felt the older man, Derek, holding him tighter, making cooing noises, telling him how brave he had been, and how sorry he was but that all would be okay now, that he would protect him from now own.

 

He found Derek’s soft voice comforted him but it also made him cry harder. He cried because of his mother, because even though she had imprisoned him, and often tortured him, she was still his mother and she had been deeply ill.

Stiles liked remembering her as she was when they lived with his dad. Claudia had always been so vibrant, loving and happy. Towards him and his dad. She would organise game nights were the three of them would play games together, they’d play pictionary, monopoly and jenga, she’d pretend to make clumsy moves consequently making the tower topple over, immediately making him the winner to his absolute delight. She’d have pizza Thursdays which was the only day she would allow his father to have a meat pizza as she had put him on a low-cholesterol diet. She'd kiss them both good night and good morning. She called themselves 'the three musketeers'.

But things hand’t stay so perfect after he turned six. Claudia stopped kissing her husband and the kisses she gave Stiles increased in number and started to linger for minutes, She started glaring at his father when he would play with Stiles or as little as talk to him. It worsened to the point of his friends being unable to hug him or pat his back, even a high-five would set her off. She'd insist carrying Stiles anywhere even though he was six and could walk, run and crawl perfectly fine. Not long after, she packed her bags and took Stiles with her. Every day since then she got increasingly worse.

 

But it didn’t matter now…Claudia was dead.

 

She was gone and Stiles wasn't sure what to do now. What to feel.

 

 

At the moment all he knew to do was to cry. Wrapping his arms around the man’s neck, Stiles rested his face against Derek’s neck. Who in return pressed his lips against his temple.  
As soon as they got outside the house Stiles felt the wind hit his face, making his tears feel cold against his skin. The sun’s rays blinded him, forcing him to close his eyes. A rushing sense of relief inundated his system. New tears ran down his face, but this time they were happy tears. Stiles cried because he was free. Because for the first time in ten long years, he was finally free.


End file.
